


How Brad Pitt Got Us Together

by AHS



Category: Actor RPF, Queer as Folk (US) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-06
Updated: 2007-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-12 22:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHS/pseuds/AHS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Even some straight guys will admit they would sleep with Brad Pitt if nobody could find out about it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Brad Pitt Got Us Together

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I made this up... except for the fact that whoever that dude was on that VH1 special really did say that, lol.

“Even some straight guys will admit they would sleep with Brad Pitt if nobody could find out about it.”

Gale and Randy were spending a lazy Saturday hanging out at Gale’s. Smoking a little weed, enjoying the resulting munchies, and watching a marathon of _I Love the 80’s_ on Vh1 to make fun of Hal. When the nostalgia ended, they were too relaxed and content to move, even to find the remote, so they kept watching. On yet another of those lists of the hottest celebrities, some guy made the statement about straight guys and Brad. Randy wondered if it was true.

“Gale… would you fuck Brad Pitt?”

Gale stretched out his long legs, propped his feet up on the coffee table, and loudly chewed a barbeque potato chip. “Does he get a choice in the matter?”

“He should be so lucky. C’mon, play along.”

“Which Brad Pitt are we talking?”

“Uh… there’s only one.”

“I mean in which movie.”

“Oh. Hmm, _Legends of the Fall_?”

“Please. I might as well just stick to fucking women.”

“Okay fine. _Ocean’s Eleven_.”

“Now you’re talking. Ehh… maybe.”

Randy bumped Gale with his shoulder, grinning, having thought of a brilliant question. “If you could fuck one guy and nobody would know, who would it be?”

“Probably you.”

Randy used every ounce of composure he had not to choke on a Cheeto. He looked at Gale, sitting next to him on the couch with eyes vaguely focused on Teri Hatcher’s supposed hotness. The man hadn’t even paused. Randy broke the silence with a couple of awkward laughs, then realized Gale wasn’t laughing with him. The silence got louder until Randy said, very articulately…

“Oh.”

A few minutes later, he jumped up, mumbled something about it being late, and left.

*****

Gale didn’t seem to think anything of what he’d said, acting completely normally at work, but Randy couldn’t stop thinking about it. He had been joking when he asked… at least, he was pretty sure. Gale was an unusual straight guy, actually willing to answer that kind of question, but he was still straight. He must have just said he would fuck Randy because he was stoned and Randy was right there and…

Randy tried to be cool at first and let it go. But, by Wednesday, as they filmed making out scenes for about two hours (Randy grateful at least that it wasn‘t cocksock time), he started to lose it. Between takes he got lamely chatty, seeking clarification.

“Last weekend was fun, Gale.”

“What? Oh, yeah.”

Randy knew Gale was a little annoyed because he was trying to stay Brian in his head and Randy was making it difficult. But he kept talking.

“You’re so funny when you’re stoned.”

“So I‘ve been told. But I wasn’t that stoned last weekend.”

“You weren’t?”

“At least not while you were there.”

“Oh.”

Again, so intelligent. So eloquent. After which the director yelled “Action!” and Brian shoved his tongue into Justin’s mouth for another hour or so.

*****

By Friday, Randy was avoiding Gale as much as possible around the set. And leave it to Hal to notice and bring it up.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“What?”

“You and Gale. You haven’t been as sickeningly chummy as usual this week.”

Randy gave Hal’s concerned smile a dirty look, but he knew it was harmless teasing. “Everything’s fine.” Then he decided maybe Hal, in his self-declared capacity as straightest of all straight guys, would help shed some light on his confusion. “Hal, would you fuck Brad Pitt?”

Hal blinked, then answered with much too much relish. “Oh _yeah_. I would pound the shit out of Brad Pitt. I’d smack his ass and say, ‘You like that, pretty boy?’ Then I’d…”

“Okay, I get it.”

Hal cracked up at his own bit. “Why did you ask?”

“Nevermind. But, just one more question… If you could fuck one guy and no one would know, who would it be?”

“Uh, Randy, this show still hasn’t turned me gay. Okay? Answer is nobody.”

Later in the day, Randy tried the same questions on Scott. His answer to the first…

“If he’d put me in one of his movies, sure.” Said in much the same way that Ted told Melanie she could appear on his gay porn site if she just grew a nine inch cock. “His wife and my girlfriend can take pictures and share recipes.”

And to the second…

“Uh… uh… Hal Sparks?”

Randy’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God, really?”

“No, not really. I just said Hal ‘cause he’s like the least likely person I know to agree to it,” Scott admitted with a laugh. “Why the survey, Randy?”

“It’s nothing… really, Scotty. Forget I asked.”

*****

That Saturday night… about 3:30 am… Gale woke up to pounding on his door and opened it, a bit grumpily, to find Randy chewing his lip and looking annoyingly bright-eyed.

“What the fuck, Rand? You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just… you didn’t ask me.”

“Ask you what?”

“That question I asked you last weekend. You should have asked me after. Ask me now.”

“Lemme guess. You’d fuck _Thelma & Louise_ Brad Pitt.”

“I mean the question… after that.”

Gale produced a cigarette from somewhere unseen, standing as he was in T-shirt and boxers, and put it between his lips. “That question was designed for straight guys.”

Randy took the cigarette from Gale’s mouth before he could light it. “I don’t care. Ask me.”

Gale sighed. “You’ve taken my last smoke, and now I’m going to bed.” He turned to go back inside.

“It would be you.”

Gale stopped and Randy spoke nervously to his back.

“Yeah. One guy and it would be you. And I am gay, so it means even more, picking one guy to fuck.” He kept throwing looks at Gale but he couldn’t hold them. “Not that… I mean, it meant a lot… what you said to me… whether you meant it to or… Maybe it was a joke… or just a what if never to be explored, but…”

Gale turned around, half shaking his head in amusement, and grabbed a handful of Randy’s jacket, pulling him in for a kiss. Randy felt Gale’s tongue venture farther into his mouth than it ever had, even within the context of a scene, and it excited him to discover, though he didn’t understand it, that Gale didn’t taste like Brian. Randy didn’t question, didn’t overanalyze as Gale brought them inside the apartment and pushed him against the door. He just held on and gave as good as he got until his smile grew so out of control it interfered with the kissing.

“You talk too much, Rand,” Gale said, voice laced with affection and desire, fingers laced upon Randy’s spine under his shirt.

“I know.”

“And you’re a little slow. Took you a week to catch up. I was starting to think you wouldn’t.”

“Sorry. But… slow can be good.”

Gale groaned at the suggestive sentiment whispered in his ear. Was it the sentiment or just the way Randy breathed it? “Do tell.”

“Since I’m here, I might as well _show_.”

Walking Randy to the bedroom, arms wrapped around him from behind, that’s when Gale said to no one in particular…

“And that’s how Brad Pitt got us together.”


End file.
